Decisions, decisions
by Teslin
Summary: In which Warren makes a purchase and meets a girl. Warren/citizen.


Warren was standing with his hands on his hips, scowling in contemplation. This decision should not be as hard as it was. He knew that he definitely wanted one of these though. No doubt there. Oh he was _going_ to get one. The real question was, did he want it in red? Or black?

The indecision was frustrating him. He probably would have asked his friends' opinions even, but he had opted to keep this a secret. They'll find out of course, but not until it's too late. His irritating inability to choose which freaking color he wanted was not worth telling them yet. Not worth having to endure Layla's lecture sooner than necessary.

"Trying to decide what you can sell to afford one?" Someone had come up beside him. Warren didn't look over, and merely grunted in response, not having really registered the question. Red was his favorite color... but was the red one too red? And black was slick... Or was it boring?

"Me too..." The person said, with distinct longing in their voice. "I've had my Blast for a few years now, and I'm ready to move up to something a little bigger, but I really can't afford it."

"Oh, no, that's not it." said Warren, coming out of his daze and shaking his head. "I _am_ getting one. I just... can't decide which color..." He mumbled the last part, biting his lower lip.

The person laughed and Warren finally tore his gaze away from the motorcycles. It was a girl. A girl wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and motorcycle boots. She had a helmet in her hand, light brown hair tied back in a messy braid, and she wasn't even looking at him, instead gazing fondly at the bikes. Warren had to admit he was almost intimidated. Here was someone with a legitimate excuse for wearing a badass leather jacket. Whereas he'd been wearing one for years without the motorcycle to go with it. God, he felt like such a poser. But. This was soon to be remedied.

Warren turned back to scowling at the motorcycles. "So what do you think? Black or red?"

"Hm... I'd go for black personally..." She looked from the motorcycles to him, tilting her head as she considered him seriously. "But red suits you."

Warren glared at the motorcycles. He'd been leaning towards black. "Oh screw it!" He said finally, throwing up his arms. "I'll get a custom paint job with both colors!"

The girl grinned. "That'll work. I'm Amy, by the way." she said, holding out her hand.

"Warren." And he shook it, realizing too late that his hand was probably a little warmer than a normal person's should have been. But she didn't mention it.

"So if you're buying a motorcycle, I know a really good ride to an awesome ice cream place."

"Ice cream?" Warren was taken aback.

"Yeah!"

Ice cream. Warren had mixed feelings about ice cream. While undeniably tasty, it was uncomfortably cold. Melted ice cream was more bearable in temperature, but was otherwise just wrong. On the other hand-- but wait! Had this girl just asked him out to ice cream? Warren took another good look at her. While not _stunning_, she was certainly cute and had a very pretty smile. And her eyes... they were soft, but... piercing. She was rather unexpected. This cheerful petite girl who rode a motorcycle. She didn't seem to find him intimidating or unapproachable, which he was not at all used to. The tough "biker" look scared people off at school, but why in the world should that scare _her_? He found her lack of fear a little disconcerting... Ice cream... well why the hell not.

"Okay. If you don't mind waiting around a bit."

She smiled. "Nope! I still have to find some gloves, anyway." She held up a leather gauntlet-style glove that had a large hole worn in the palm, and walked away toward the merchandise.

"Now where's someone I can give my money to?" Warren said to himself, looking around.

----

It took a little while to iron out the details. He ended up getting the red one, which was a demo bike so he managed to get a good deal on it. It still wasn't exactly cheap, but Warren had been saving for this for a very long time. He wanted something fast, but classier than your standard Japanese sport bike. So he was buying a Ducati. A Ducati Monster to be precise. Oh yes.

After buying her gloves, Amy came over and leaned on the counter next to Warren, waiting patiently for him to finish the paperwork. Before too long they stepped outside together, Warren with a new red helmet in hand, walking over to where the bike had been brought out for him. Amy's Buell was parked nearby. It was black, but she'd painted white spots on it to look like stars. If Warren knew more about the sky he probably could have picked out certain constellations.

"You'll wanna tie your hair back so it doesn't get tangled." said Amy, pulling a black hair tie off her wrist and handing it to him. He actually had one in his pocket, but he took it. He watched her walk on over to her bike as he pulled his hair into a low ponytail, and couldn't help but appreciate the view that her tight jeans afforded. He _was_ a guy after all, and it was after all, a very shapely behind. Warren looked down at his new motorcycle with a smile as he started fastening his helmet. He honestly could not have decided at that moment which was hotter. His brand new fast Italian motorcycle, or his new friend the biker babe.

He swung his leg over and settled into the seat of the bike that felt oh so right, knocked the kick-stand up and roared the engine into life with a grin. Looking over he saw Amy tugging on her new gloves before she mounted her bike and started it up. She looked over to him and he nodded.

He followed her out of the parking lot and then out onto increasingly unfamiliar roads. Interesting nowhere roads through woods and fields, with no shortage of twists and curves. While you wouldn't say Amy was going close to the speed limit, Warren was sure that he'd have been going faster if he was on his own. She also didn't pass cars until it was legal to do so, and if he was being honest with himself, Warren knew he wouldn't have had that restraint. He didn't particularly mind though. He was still getting a feel for the bike, and the ride was still really nice. Taking curves at 65 mph, still really fun. And he certainly didn't mind being shown these great roads he never would have guessed at.

They ultimately came back to civilization and into a strip mall that housed the ice cream place. Leo's. Warren pulled off his helmet with a smile. "That _was_ a great ride."

"Just wait 'till you try the ice cream." Amy grinned. Warren still wasn't sure he even wanted ice cream, but her smile was infectious, and compounded with the thrill of a great motorcycle ride, he grinned too.

Amy went right up to the glass and looked over all the ice cream flavors, but it seemed like she knew what she wanted before she even got there, and promptly ordered the Raspberry Chocolate Fudge. Warren gazed at all the tubs and labels at far more of a loss. Butter Pecan, Pistachio, Peppermint Strawberry, Tiramisu, French Vanilla...

Amy started moving toward the register. "I'm buying." he said, without looking over at her.

"Oh! Thanks..."

Ice cream. Why did it have to be ice cream? They had other options of course... frozen yogurt, milkshakes. Smoothies even. But this was not helpful. Well... it had been awhile since he had braved ice cream... So he finally ordered a scoop of their seasonal flavor, Pumpkin Spice. In a cup. Holding an ice cream cone in his warm hand just would have been a mess.

Amy insisted on trying his ice cream before he got a chance to himself, and she offered him a taste of hers. He took a lick and shivered. "You okay?" she asked, looking slightly amused.

"Yeah, I just... get brain freezes real easily. That is quite good though." They sat down at a booth, Warren knowing with an ominous feeling that he was going to spend half the time pretending the cold of the ice cream wasn't making his head hurt so much. Why was he doing this?

Amy shrugged off her jacket and put it on the bench beside her, revealing a cute turquoise top. They both sat with their elbows on the table. "So." she started, in-between licks of ice cream. "Are you in school?"

Warren nodded, looking down as he put some ice cream on his spoon. "I'm a senior in high school. You?" He looked up at her, trying not to wince as he put the ice cream in his mouth.

"I'm a sophomore at MAA." Maxville Academy of Art.

"Cool. What major?"

"Illustration. With a minor in painting."

"So you'll draw kid's books? Or what?"

"Possibly. I dunno. I'm flexible. Kid's books would be fun, but they can also be really limiting. Concept design would be ideal... So what'll you do when you graduate?"

Besides become a superhero? "I... really don't know. Probably not go to college. I kind of bought a motorcycle instead." She laughed.

That was a good question though. What _was_ he going to do in-between battling supervillains and saving citizens? He hadn't really thought about it. He couldn't bus tables at the Paper Lantern forever. College was out of the question not just because it was expensive. It was pretty much impossible for full-time superheroes. Though... getting an associate degree was a _possibility_... if he wanted to wait two years for the rest of the gang to graduate anyway, and then start hero work with them. Something to think about...

He also realized that his answer made him sound really irresponsible. "Maybe I'll get an associate's degree or something."

"That counts as college."

"Yeah maybe. But it's not a four-year university, or art school, as cool as that would be."

"Do you draw?"

Crap. He walked right into that one. No one knew this. No one! But he nodded, reasoning that Amy would merely approve, not tease him mercilessly like his friends would if they knew.

"Do you ever paint?"

"No."

"Oh you should. You look like a painter to me."

"Really?" She nodded, gazing thoughtfully at him, a small smile on her lips. And those eyes again. Deep, penetrating, dark hazel eyes. He was having a hard time looking away. That is, until he took a too large spoonful of ice cream, and had to duck his head down, hissing at the pain of the sudden harsh cold headache.

"Brain freeze?" she said sympathetically. He managed to nod.

"Painting..." he said, and looked up once the worst of the pain had subsided. "Yeah, I could try that."

"I think you'd like it a lot." she said matter-of-factly, eyes on her ice cream cone.

Warren stared at her while they ate their ice creams in silence for a while. It was finally starting to sink in that he had apparently been roped into a spontaneous date with some girl he just met. This was highly unusual. Warren had never even been on a date before. Unless you counted being Layla's pretend date. And he'd never gone on a date with Freeze Girl, despite his friends' nudgings. They'd made out at homecoming, but there just wasn't enough to pursue. She was like ice cream. Tasty, but too cold to handle.

The suspicious part of Warren's brain was kicking itself into gear. This girl, Amy, was ostensibly a citizen with no powers. Or at least, he really hoped she was. Because if she did have powers, she was probably evil. Anyone with powers would have been bound to recognize him. He couldn't go anywhere in the superhero community without everyone knowing exactly who he was. So if her intentions were honorable, and she had superpowers of her own, surely she would have told him. But she hadn't, and if she was intentionally hiding powers, then her motives could only be nefarious.

Another part of his brain was running to keep up, trying to point out to the suspicious part how paranoid and irrational it was being. Which was really more likely, that he had met a pretty citizen with similar interests, or a pretty supervillain with similar interests? There were a lot more citizens than supervillains after all, and he was fairly certain these similar interests could not have been so easily faked. She clearly _has_ been riding motorcycles for years, and she said she was going to art school before she possibly could have known that he drew. Not even his _mom_ knew he had sketchbooks hiding under his bed. The idea that she had somehow orchestrated all this to get close to him was insane. Of course, Gwen had done something similar to Stronghold last year with less effort... But then, Gwen was also a bitch. He wasn't picking up any negative or evil vibes from Amy... She just seemed very nice, and genuine. Plus, a supervillain probably would have known better than to think he'd go for ice cream.

"You seem deep in thought." Warren blinked. He hadn't realized she'd been staring right back at him for he didn't know how long. They had also both finished their ice creams. She was smiling at him, looking a little amused.

"Sorry." he said, smiling back.

She gazed at him a moment longer, before reaching for one of the scraps of paper and crayons that were sitting on the table. "Well. I'm afraid I really ought to go work on the Art History paper I've been avoiding." and she scribbled her name and number on the paper before handing it to him.

Amy Nichols.

He tore off the bottom of the paper and wrote his own on it, giving it to her with a smirk. Her smile widened when she saw his whole name.

"Warren Peace." she said, looking up at him with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah." he rolled his eyes as he got up from the booth.

They parted ways in the parking lot. "See you!" Amy called, and Warren waved.

He decided to assume she wasn't evil. He really had no reason to think she was, but at the same time he didn't know if he'd ever be able to get rid of that paranoid feeling. There was always going to be some little part of him insisting he stay on guard at all times.

Well. It was probably time to head over to Stronghold's. This whole ice cream thing had made him late to Will's little movie/game night. He never arrived on time anyway, but still...


End file.
